Mama's Boys
by YoungAthena
Summary: Of mother's and their sons, loss and memory, hidden pasts and troubling truths. Where Clint gets ill and lets something slip, and they all mourn for what they have lost. Oneshot, although maybe more. There is too much sorrow to explore in one go...No longer a oneshot! Far too much sorrow indeed!
1. Chapter 1

**I'm really not sure what this is, I'll be honest with you. It's something I just started writing this morning, then kept writing, then finished and I still wasn't sure. I think it's all just part of me testing things and trying things out and trying to find my voice. So please, please, please read and review, so that I can get a feeling about what's working and what isn't. Most of all though, I hope that you enjoy reading this!**

**Y.A.**

* * *

After their last mission, stopping biological terrorists from unleashing an epidemic in Africa, Clint had got really, really sick. Pneumonia, the doctors said but then, as Tony had scoffed, who the hell manages to get pneumonia in the middle of the desert?

Clint does, Natasha had countered coolly, just like he also managed to get heatstroke in the Arctic. He didn't have the best luck in the world. She had noticed the minute they stepped onto the quinjet to return to Stark Tower the cough and slight tremor in his body that he tried to mask, because she knew every part of him and wouldn't miss something like that.

She had watched him with her keen eyes all the way back, not even cracking a smile when he caught her looking and made goofy faces at her. He had resisted her insistence on getting a doctor to check him out right up until the point when he had collapsed in a coughing fit in her arms and even then he had looked at her with cheeks flushed with fever and glassy eyes to say, 'Know what Tasha, I think I've got a cold.' Natasha had rolled her eyes and put him to bed and tried to hide her worry from the others when the doctor made his prognosis. Of course, she had seen him much worse, far closer to deaths door, but pneumonia was still serious and Clint seemed to have a penchant for deteriorating rapidly and scaring her massively.

Not that she would ever admit that to him, or anyone else. But she thought that he knew.

It seemed as though he was ill forever. In that time she found a kindred spirit in perhaps the most unlikely place. Pepper had taken it upon herself to be Clint's chief nurse during his illness, sensing that while it was something that Natasha would have liked to do she just didn't know how. Natasha was more suited to medicine in the field, popping back in dislocated joints, sewing crude and hurried stitches and telling Clint to suck it up. Efficient she may be, gentle certainly not.

So Pepper had assumed that role, checking his temperatures, administering his medicine and wiping a cool cloth across his forehead. She would sit by his bed and read to him in a soothing, calm voice, which also served to soothe Natasha as she sat, as she always did, in her guard post on the other side of Clint's bed. Sometimes when Clint had drifted off to sleep Pepper would keep reading until Natasha too slipped into the slumber that she constantly resisted.

The others, Tony and Bruce and Steve and Thor, they all took it in turns to take up her post by Clint's bed, tag-teaming so that they could bully her into eating and sleeping and actually move in some way.

It was after one of these breaks that it had happened. Thor had used his pretty impressive talent of being able to cry at will to guilt her into going to eat some dinner. The mere threat of tears had her running for the door because there was no way she would be able to deal with a giant, lumbering and bawling god. Tony took up her place at Clint's bedside grumbling about it all the way, although secretly glad to be able to help out in some way. Inevitably Pepper had joined him, first wiping sticky sweat from Clint's forehead then sitting back in her chair to pick up where she had left off in her book from the night before. 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe', Tony quickly realised as Pepper's voice carried him back to his own childhood when, as a small boy, his mother would sit by his bed at night and read to him. She would do all the voices for him, bringing the stories to life night after night. The tales of Narnia had been his favourite and he had begged for them over and over even when she had suggested something new. Comforted by these memories he sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and let the sound of her voice and the words of the tale to carry him away.

Until. 'Why...you doing…this?'

The voice was small, hesitant, weak. Tony opened his eyes a crack to peer at the bed where the pathetic noise had come from. Clint's eyes were open slightly, fighting against heavy lids. He was trying to keep them fixed on Pepper but the fever pulled them away, wandering to whatever spot was easiest for them to land on. He was utterly exhausted by the illness.

Pepper marked the place in her book, frowning she leaned forward, 'What do you mean, Clint?'

He breathed in and out, heavy, laboured breaths, 'Why…looking…after…me…why…so…good…to me?'

Pepper smiled softly, that same smile that Tony loved to see on her, so full of affection and warmth. She leaned forward in her seat, reaching out to push Clint's hair back from his face which he instinctively leaned into. 'Because,' she chided gently, 'Because you need a bit of mothering. You all do, and god knows Natasha doesn't fit the bill.'

She was rewarded with the slight upturn of his lips and continued running her hand through his hair.

'Don't…remember…her face,' Clint breathed and Tony thought that finally he had really lost the plot.

Evidently Pepper had the same idea because she asked, 'Who, Natasha? She's only been gone for 15 minutes!'

'My…mother…too…young…died…' Pepper looked up at Tony, alarmed, her hand frozen in Clint's hair. Obviously the pneumonia was doing something to him because he never talked in any way about himself or his family and neither liked how vulnerable the fever was leaving him. Tony frowned, about to say something but Clint wasn't finished, 'Remember…daddy's face…coming for me…angry….but…not…mama…'

He trailed off, completely spent and closed his eyes as he let the darkness overtake him once again. Pepper held Tony's gaze, her eyes stricken as she tried to comprehend what Clint had unwittingly told them.

'Well he's never told me that.'

They whipped their heads towards the door, where they found Natasha lounging against the doorframe, looking mildly affronted.

Tony moved to leave his chair and offer it to her, but she waved him away and pulled up another chair next to Pepper, who still had a facial expression that strongly resembled a gaping fish.

'I don't understand,' she said to Natasha, with tears in her eyes. Tony could see from the way that she was gripping her book, so tight that he knuckles were white, that she was trying very hard to keep her emotions in check. That was something that he loved about her, that she was almost too compassionate and felt the pain of others as keenly as though it were her own.

Natasha hesitated before answering her as she scrutinized Clint to see if anything had changed dramatically in the fifteen minutes she had been away. If anything had she would have given Thor something to really cry about.

'Clint's parents died when he was young, 7 or 8, I'm not sure really. He was in an orphanage for a while I think before his brother made him go to join the circus, which sounds unbelievable but is actually true, and that's where he learnt his archery.' She said it simply, without embellishment because there was none.

The two of them were incredibly close and trusted each other more than any other person in the world, but their line of work left them with little time to be emotional. There was no holding hand and sharing secrets like little girls at camp for them. Over the years they had let each other in, little by little, Clint more than her and usually it was in a situation similar to the current one. When he so ill or injured and slightly out of his mind we would let something slip, as though he tried so hard to keep it in but couldn't quite manage it. Sometimes she thought he was weak and that whenever he did this it was a cry in the dark that no one in his life had answered, but that was before she had figured out that what he buried deep within him was so painful that this the only time his mind allowed him to let pieces of it out was when he wouldn't remember it later. It was smart, she mused, he could let people in without them seeing the shame in his eyes and him seeing the pity in theirs. Protection and self-preservation, two things she understood and admired in him.

But Tony and Pepper didn't know this, they only knew what Clint had feverishly said, and what she had just told them. In the time that they had been a team the two master assassins had been the slowest to open up to the rest of them, especially Clint who had residual feelings of guilt from what they had termed 'the Loki Affair'. Tony himself knew the pain of losing both his parents, although he had been much older and practically an adult by that time. He could hardly imagine how he would have coped if he had been 7 or 8 and his mother had not come home one day. No more hugs, no more kisses, no more Narnia.

No boy should grow up without a mother, he thought, but then corrected himself. No child, no child should grow up without a mother, and he wondered if these were the secrets Clint kept buried deep, what did Natasha also keep hidden?

He glanced over at Pepper and saw from the thin line of her pursed lips and the steely glint in her eyes that she was thinking the same thing as him. Nothing more was said and they both excused themselves from Clint's bedside, leaving Natasha alone with her partner. Neither mentioned it to the other but that night they held each other a little closer and Tony's eyes lingered on the small picture of his mother that was propped up in the corner of his room, memorising her every feature as though he, too, might wake up in the morning and find her image erased from his mind.

No more was said, to each other or to Natasha and Clint, but after that Pepper made even more effort to mother Clint in the most gentle and unobtrusive way. She spent longer reading to him, gradually making her way through the Narnia series, even when Clint was almost better and would lie listening sleepily but not feverishly. More often than not both Tony and Natasha joined them in what turned into a kind of ritual that they all would miss when Clint was completely recovered. Not that they didn't want him to get better, of course, but they knew that soon whatever kind of connection they had forged between them would be loosened as Clint would pull back from them, inevitably taking Natasha with him.

He did retreat from them, as they had all expected, but to a lesser extent than before he was ill. He seemed more willing to make an effort with them, especially with Pepper. He came to her slowly and hesitantly, with small problems in the beginning but over time Tony found them talking together more often, but only when Pepper was occupied with something else at the same time, cooking or working, and Tony suspected it was so that the focus would never completely be on Clint.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, Clint let them in. There would always be some distance between them but he didn't push them away and let them mean something to him more than just some people he had to work with. He brought Natasha to them as well and they all found within each other a sense of family that had been missing from their lives for so long. Of course Pepper continued to mother them all and they all found themselves enjoying it, even when they teased her for it. After all, everyone needs someone to take care of them once in a while.

The following Christmas Pepper received the full set of the Chronicles of Narnia and although there was no note attached to it she knew exactly who had given it to her.

From that point forward, every time one of them was injured or ill, usually an accident prone and frankly unlucky Clint, they would all pile into the room and enjoy listening to Pepper read from the series.

After months of looking, searching any and every database and source that he could find, Tony had finally unearthed a picture of Clint's mother, her high school yearbook photo. He was taken aback by her beauty and startled by her eyes, eyes which lived on in her son. He had left the photograph in Clint's room, wanting to spare them both the awkwardness of some uncomfortable presentation.

He had been unprepared for Clint coming to him late that night, seeking him out down in his workshop. Clutching the photograph in his hand Clint had thanked him with tears in his eyes, for the first time that Tony had seen him, completely unashamed.

'I remember,' he had smiled shyly. 'I remember more, now that I know her face.'

That was all they both needed. To remember what was once lost. That was enough.

Well, for now.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, so one moment I was thinking that I would make this a series of one-shots, all centred around a theme etc, and then this happened. I swear I only intended it to be a one-shot, I really did, but then it just kind of wasn't. I say this all the time, but I'm still not sure exactly what it is, but will in some ways carry on from the first chapter. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

Y.A.

* * *

Tony sat looking at the figure in the hospital bed before him. Christ, he thought, how the hell did the day end like this? None of them really knew what had happened. One minute they were on a routine job, finding the bad guys, taking them down, being regular heroes, same old, same old, and the next it was anything but. It was, frankly, a nightmare.

All it had taken was a bomb, an explosion and a little bit of self-sacrifice on Clint's part to completely turn their day around. It had been a bomb planted by one of the villains that only Clint had caught in the corner of his eye and, since he was closest to Natasha who was unfortunately in the direct path of the bomb, he had thrown himself at her to force her out of the way.

The bomb exploded.

A blinding light.

A woman's scream.

The earth shook.

And then, silence. The rest of the team had stumbled in the wake of the blast, trying to regain their bearings after the light had burned their retinas

'Natasha? Clint?' they had called their names, trying to locate their fallen team members. Of course it would be those two that had got caught up in the bomb. If trouble was around, you could count on Clint or Natasha (but usually Clint) to be right in the middle of it. They couldn't have anticipated what they found when the haze cleared.

Natasha had been conscious, though a cut on her forehead bled sluggishly down her face as she knelt over an object on the ground, obscuring their view of what it was.

'Natasha,' a relieved Steve had called softly, finally capturing her attention. She turned her head to look at them. Tony thought of how the blood trickling steadily down her face had amplified her expression, the look of horror and disbelief in her eyes and his stomach turned at the memory.

'Help.'

The single word she uttered had barely left her lips and Thor, Steven and Tony had rushed to her side. They vaguely wondered where the Hulk had got to, but a roar and a high-pitched scream told them that he had got the one responsible for the whole mess.

That mess being what lay in front of Natasha.

It was a child, a small boy with a shock of sandy hair that was matted with blood on one side from a cut to his own head. They had all been confused until they took in the giant SHIELD uniform engulfing his small body and the bow almost the size of him that he clutched in a miniature hand.

'Oh. My. God.' Tony had said in complete disbelief. 'You have got to be fucking kidding me.'

It was a sentiment that they were all thinking. Well, except for Thor, who seemed a little oblivious to the problem.

'Where is Clinton?' he boomed, his eyes searching for the archer. 'He was here, was he not?'

'Uh, hate to break it to you Goldilocks, but that IS Clint.' Tony pointed at the child.

'No, Tony, Clint is a grown man, not a child.' Thor explained slowly to Tony, as though he were simple.

'Thor,' Natasha had mercifully broken in just before Tony said something particularly cutting. 'Look at him. Really look. It's Clint.'

They had all leaned in closer, scrutinising the child. No, there was no doubt about who he was.

'What sorcery is this?' Thor cried out in alarm, he face creasing in dismay.

'The bomb,' murmured Steve as they all continued to stare at little Clint. He cleared his throat, 'The bomb must have been more than just, well, a bomb.' He clarified.

Natasha had picked him up so gently and tentatively that Tony thought that at that moment she could break just as easily as the boy in her arms. Well, until she caught him watching her and raised her eyebrow, giving him a look that clearly said 'what the fuck are you looking at'. For once, though, he didn't turn away. Instead, he produced a cloth from goodness knows where and used it to wipe the blood away from her face and stayed silently by her side as they walked to the quinjet. Quiet moments of relief in what was turning out to be one messed up day.

And here they were now. Clint was yet to wake up, with ten stitches holding together a hole in his head and a bright purple cast encasing a broken arm. Tony was regretting now that he had still been too stunned when they had set the arm to push for a hot rod red and gold combination on the cast, but then he thought back to the last time that Clint had broken his arm and Natasha had made the medics put a bright pink cast on while he was unconscious. Returning to his workshop to find Clint nearly sawing off his own arm to rid himself of the damn thing had been enough to impress upon Tony the extent to which Clint did not like to be messed with.

He wondered what little Clint would be like. Would he be adult Clint just in a little person's body? Or would he be Clint as a child, the real deal? He hoped that it was the former, that would be funny. If it was the latter…well, he wasn't altogether sure that he wanted to know what Clint had been like as a child. Ever since the thing with the photograph he and Clint had grown closer and Clint had mentioned things about his life growing up that had made Tony question his faith in humanity.

He sighed glumly, resting his face in his hand and wishing that Pepper was there already. He had called her the minute he could because he knew that she would want to be there not just for him and Clint, but for the whole team, and she would know what to do if Clint woke up and things went…wrong.

As it happened, she wasn't there when Clint woke up. She was still in the air on her way back from California as fast as she possibly could. They all wished that she could have made it back quicker, she would have known what to do when Clint had woken up, quickly scanned the room and assessed his situation and simply said mildly, 'Did I fall down the stairs again?'

It had taken a while after that to try and explain to Clint who they were and where he was, and at that they were particularly inept. You might have thought that two certified geniuses, a super soldier, a god and a master assassin could put their brains together and come up with a good excuse for his current situation. As it happened Pepper managed to walk in soon after Clint had finally started asking for his mother and brother, and wasn't sure who was becoming more hysterical, Clint or Thor.

'Right,' she said, fixing a bright smile on her face at the door and walking over to Clint's bedside, 'What are these idiots trying to tell you, hmm?' She moved to wipe the tears from Clint's cheeks, her smile only faltering momentarily when he flinched away from her.

'I want my mama,' he repeated, fixing her with a look harder than any she had ever seen in a child. 'Where is she? I…I want to go home.' He gulped back more tears that threatened to fall. Boys didn't cry, he knew that by now. Pepper smoothed his hair back from his face as she considered her answer. She had thought about this on her way back, how she would explain it all to him, what way she could allay his fears if he turned out to be a child in both mind and body. Worst case scenario, she had thought, and yet here they were.

Here it was, she took a deep breath and dived right in, 'I'm your Aunt Pepper, your mama's sister. She's had to go away for a little while so you've come to stay with me and my friends until she comes back.'

They all seemed to hold their breath as the idea ticked over in little Clint's mind.

'Where did she go?' he asked directly, furrowing his brow in concentration as he contemplated it.

'Umm…' Pepper was at a slight loss.

'She wasn't very well Clint, she went to get some help to make her feel better,' Natasha stepped in to help her. From what Clint had told her, his mother had been an alcoholic and she hated herself for using this information to her advantage when he was in such a vulnerable position.

'Who are you? Where's Barney then?'

'This…this is your Aunt Natasha, your mama's other sister!' Pepper decided suddenly.

'Yes I am your aunt Natasha,' Natasha repeated in a monotone to appease Pepper, hating how old it made her sound. 'Barney is with family from your father's side of the family. See, you came to us and he went to them while your parents are both….away.'

The rest of them around the bed all started nodding frantically, glad that finally someone had come up with a good excuse for all the madness. Unfortunately, little Clint didn't seem to want to play along. Fat tears started to roll down his cheeks and he didn't even care anymore because, obviously, what would it matter?

'Mama doesn't have any family,' he cried. 'She always said that if she did we would have left already. She just didn't want me anymore, did she?'

Just for once Tony wished that Clint wasn't so perceptive. It would have made their lives so much easier. For now though, they had an inconsolable de-aged marksman with a scarred childhood before them, with no way of knowing how to turn him back or even how to help him in that moment.

Tony had always kind of hated kids.


	3. Chapter 3

First of all, apologies for the delay in updating. I really would have liked to have updated ages ago, but between suddenly not having internet at home and working lots, it's been a bit difficult. Secondly, thank you so much to all of you who have alerted, favourited and (most of all) reviewed! You are all my heroes and I hope that you enjoy this chapter as much as the last! I like deaged fics, they're usually so well crafted and hilarious, and yet I find myself writing one that is, well, pretty serious. I guess because there are so many that are light and funny I wanted to explore what it would really be like for this to happen, make it a bit more realistic _(as realistic as such a scenario could be at least!). Anyway, thanks again!__Y.A._

* * *

_Eventually Clint cried himself to sleep, his face turned away from them all as though trying to make them disappear. He seemed to have adopted the 'if you can't see the Avengers in a room are they really there?' philosophy towards life and they all felt completely hopeless. Thor had actually been so overwhelmed by the whole situation that he had dissolved into tears and had to be led away by Bruce for a calming cup of chamomile tea before his sobbing woke Clint up again. They simply weren't ready for that yet and were unsure of what they would say to him if he did._

The rest of them sat in silence for a while around Clint's bed, observing the sleeping form before them. He was curled on his side facing away from them so all they could see was his thin and trembling shoulders rise and fall with each shaky breath he took.

'What…what do we do?' Pepper asked, her voice cracking slightly at the end of her question. Tony leaned over to take her hand in his, a quiet gesture to reassure her. He felt the same pain and confusions as she did, as they all did. Monsters and magic they should have been used to by now, but this was of a completely different nature, this, this was their hearts torn anew and their family crumbling before their very eyes. Ripped apart by a child who was not a child, a brother who was now a stranger, a vital presence in their lives that had disappeared and been replaced by what was no more than an imprint, a memory hovering in the ether.

'We find a way to reverse it, bring him back. Bring our Clint back.' Tony looked into her eyes with a new strength of purpose that had been lacking in him for so long. He glanced up to Natasha and Steve, 'Just keep SHIELD off our trail as much as possible. We don't want him to become some kind of test tube experiment, he doesn't need that.'

They nodded sagely and he could subconsciously feel them close ranks around Clint, forming a human wall that would be nigh impenetrable by even the most potent force. Oh yes, he thought grimly, we take care of our own.

He rose from his seat to seek out Bruce so that they could begin their work in reversing whatever had happened to Clint. He did not want to waste another minute dwelling on what had happened and instead throw himself into solving the problem. He made to leave but was stopped by Pepper's grip on his hand. She tugged him back to her slightly.

'Fix this, Tony. Fix it.' She ordered him firmly, no hint of a waver in her voice.

'I will,' he promised. 'And you, take care of him,' he tipped his head at the small boy in the bed. 'Take care of them all.' He whispered the last part in her ear so Natasha and Steve couldn't hear him. She nodded, wiping unshed tears from her eyes as she steeled her resolve to be the rock they all needed at this time, as she was every time. He kissed her softly on the forehead, so gentle and tender that even that felt like an ache in her heart.

Steve followed Tony out of the room, no doubt to start formulating a plan of defence and, if needed, attack. Natasha sank into the seat that Tony had vacated and a look of mutual recognition passed between the two women. They would wait for as long as it took for their boy to wake up and when he did, they would protect him as much as they could, and not just from threats to his physical being. They would protect his heart.

Eventually, as the night wore on, Pepper drifted off to sleep. She had made a valiant effort to keep her eyes open but the stresses of the day combined with her long trip back meant that there was no energy resources left for her to draw on. Which left Natasha as the solitary guard over her small friend.

Sleep was not an easy state for Clint to be in as an adult nor, apparently, as a child. Natasha understood completely why this was, for in their line of work it was not unusual for the horrors of reality to follow you into your dreams. More times than she would care to remember she herself had woken herself from vicious nightmares sweating, crying or screaming. She had to gulp down the wave of pain that washed over her when she also remembered how every time Clint was the one who had been there to dry her eyes and hold her when it felt like too much for one person to bear, and forced herself to look at what he now was. A child, cowed and weak, nothing left of the man she knew.

And yet, as she watched him in his most uninhibited state she could see flashes of the man he would become. Having rolled over at some point to face them she was able to observe his furrowed brow and set jaw and could tell that he was in the throes of some nightmare. That was her Clint through and through, even when the most terrifying memories were taking over his mind he would not scream or cry out. She had seen it time and time again, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might break, his entire body radiating the almighty scream that he would never set free. Then in a moment he would be awake, his eyes flying open, flitting around until they settled on her, at which point his heart rate would start to slow down and he would close his eyes again, content in the knowledge that she was there.

It was a routine that they knew all too well, which was why she half expected it when the child Clint's eyes suddenly opened, taking in Pepper fast asleep before shifting to land on her. She could almost feel it, the way that his breathing started to moderate itself although he continued to observe her with wary eyes. She later told herself that it was the pleading look buried deep in his eyes that made her do it, but knew it was really the fact that it was what had always comforted them both the most.

She rose soundlessly and cautiously crept towards the bed, not wanting to frighten him. She hesitated a moment and the two of them locked eyes. She almost wanted to cry, to see Clint's eyes, his adult eyes shining out of too young a face, staring into hers, appraising her. Instead she climbed into the bed beside him, putting an arm around his thin shoulders and pulling him close to her. He stiffened against her momentarily before recognising a kindred spirit and melting into her side.

In the morning they found them as they always were, side by side, ready to face the world.

None of them really wanted to disturb such a peaceful scene (and yes, Tony had unashamedly taken video and multiple pictures as evidence to be used at a later date), but they couldn't just leave them forever. Tony and Bruce had spent half the night brainstorming possible explanations and solutions and Thor had returned to Asgard in the hope that he could find something there that would help them.

Pepper was the one to wake Natasha. She barely had to touch her before she woke with a slight jolt, as though surprised to find herself with a small body pressed against her.

'What time is it?' she whispered to Pepper, no trace of sleep left in her eyes.

'Just after 8,' Pepper whispered back. 'Bruce is making breakfast downstairs, I think we should get Clint up, make things seem…normal. At least for him.'

She made to leave but was held back by Natasha's hesitant, 'Stay.'

She stopped and turned to look at the younger woman strangely. Natasha never hesitated and certainly never sounded so nervous.

'Please,' she tried again. 'Please stay. I can't handle this on my own.' She said gesturing to Clint.

Pepper smiled, 'You seem to be doing pretty well at the moment.'

'When he's asleep,' Natasha shrugged. 'But when he's awake…you're good at that. You know what to say.'

At that moment Clint shifted awake and if he was surprised to find Natasha in his bed then he did a good job of hiding it.

'Hey there,' Pepper smiled softly at him reassuringly. 'Want to come get something to eat?'

He pursed his lips as he mulled the question over before a low rumbling gave them his answer. Pepper laughed and the sound sent a smile to Clint's lips.

'Come on,' she said. 'You're far too young to have a woman in your bed. I've put out some clothes for you, we'll wait outside for you to get dressed if you like.'

He sat up as Natasha got off the bed, rolling her eyes at Pepper as she did so.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes he asked tentatively, 'Are you really my aunts?'

'Yes Clint,' Pepper crouched down to look him in the eyes, hating to lie to him and unsure that what they were doing was the right thing, 'We are your aunts. Now get dressed, then you can come and have breakfast. Bruce is making pancakes, do you like pancakes?'

He nodded, gazing at her as though he was trying to memorize every tiny detail of her being.

'Excellent!' she said brightly. 'Give us a shout when you're ready, we'll be just outside the door.'

Tony would be so pissed, she thought as she and Natasha stepped out of the room, that the t-shirt she had chosen for Clint had a big picture of Captain America on it. Well, she thought wryly, at least they could wring some modicum of humour out of this situation.

And anyway, there was an Iron Man t-shirt there for him too.


	4. Chapter 4

_Wooooo for the reception this has had thus far! I can't get over how many of you have liked and followed and reviewed - you are all most wonderful and I would love to message all of you who reviewed personally, but unfortunately I am still without internet most of the time, and am finding it hard to even find that time to get to somewhere with internet! But please, do keep reviewing as it really is the greatest motivator in the world! Especially sometimes, when I'm just not sure if I've hit the mark, a little reassurance goes a long, long way! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last, and I'll try and update again as soon as I can! _

_Y.A._

* * *

He was a quiet walker, footsteps so light on the ground that had she not been able to see him, Pepper would have sworn that it wasn't a child there, but a ghost haunting the halls of the tower. This was partly due to the grace his body possessed even at this young age and partly due to his seeming desire to disappear and be forgotten. Like a prisoner being escorted by two guards he walked between Pepper and Natasha, although he lagged half a pace behind them, not because he couldn't keep up, but because he wanted to keep them at a safe distance from him and be able to watch them at all times. Pepper didn't really notice what he was doing but Natasha, with her keen eyes, saw the way his eyes constantly flitted between them, only shooting down to study the ground when Pepper turned her head to look at him.

They reached the end of the hall where the stairs that led down to the large communal kitchen were. Natasha and Pepper started to descend but were stopped by the smallest of gasps at the top of the stairs. They turned and headed back up, sharing puzzled looks before they saw and they realised. Clint was standing in front of a large window, palms pressed against the glass as far as his cast would let him and eyes wide as saucers.

'We're not in Iowa anymore,' he said flatly, a faint air of disinterest permeating his voice. Natasha would almost have believed it, had she not then seen the slight shiver that ran through him though the building was not cold and the way that his eyes narrowed when she and Pepper moved closer to him.

'No,' Pepper agreed. 'We're not. We're in New York, Clint. Look, there's the Empire State Building, and over there's the Statue of Liberty, we can visit them if you'd like!'

She said it all with such cheerful optimism that Natasha wanted to hurl, and apparently Clint had the same feeling because he looked at her with such unconcealed disgust that it was all Natasha could do not to laugh. She only restrained herself because she knew how much it would hurt Pepper to do so. Pepper herself was either oblivious or a very good actress, but she continued without missing a beat, 'But we can think about all those things later, let's go for some breakfast now!'

The smell of pancakes wafted up the staircase and Natasha's mouth watered at the prospect of the feast that awaited them. Pancakes were a soft spot that she and Clint shared and often she had woken up to the smell of them cooking, Clint singing in the kitchen as he flipped them, grinning at her when she appeared at the door with tousled hair and hungry eyes. Her chest ached with longing for a morning like that.

'Are you ok?' a little voice asked her. She snapped back to reality, confronted by the question posed to her by the child in front of her. 'Cos you look really sad,' he continued with a shrug.

'No, no, I'm fine, thank you. I'm just…hungry,' she tried to offer him a big smile but it felt more like a grimace contorting her face.

He looked at her for a minute longer before shrugging again and followed Pepper down the stairs. She paused a moment longer, shaking the memory from her head and followed on.

'-but then her twin sister turned out to be her twin brother! What are the chances of that, right guys?' Tony's voice blared at them as they reached the bottom of the stairs. None of them had a clue what he was talking about and, from the looks on both Steve and Bruce's faces, they really didn't want to either. Pepper gave a small cough to alert them to their presence.

'Pepper! My beautiful, wonderful, sweet Pepper!' Tony gushed as he strode over to kiss her in greeting, but stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Clint behind her.

'What. Is. He. Wearing?' he stared at Clint's t-shirt with a mixture of horror and disgust.

'I think he's wearing clothes,' Pepper smiled sweetly at him, 'Natasha?'

'Oh yes, definitely clothes,' Natasha nodded in agreement, enjoying seeing Pepper dealing with Tony as a parent would handle a troublesome child.

'Pepper!' Tony whined, 'You gave him a Captain America t-shirt! Captain America! Seriously?'

Bruce sniggered behind him as Pepper brushed past him, leading Clint to a seat at the breakfast bar, 'It's a nice t-shirt, Tony, I think I might get one myself.' He snorted as he flipped a pancake from the griddle onto a plate and set more batter to cook. 'What do you think, Clint?'

Clint's head snapped up as he was called upon, looking slightly startled, 'It's just a t-shirt.' He mumbled, contorting his head to try and get a good look at the design, of Captain America with his shield raised in victory.

'Ha! See!' Tony crowed, 'He doesn't even like Captain America! It's the tights, right kid?'

'Oh give it a rest, Tony.' Pepper said, giving Tony a very pointed look.

Clint merely shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unused to so much attention. All he wanted was to be back in Iowa, racing Barney through the corn fields behind their house with the sun beating down on their faces and the wind in their hair as they ran. In comparison, this city and especially this building felt stifling. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

'Ok so let's ask him then!' the conversation had continued around him continued and Tony's voice was loudest among them.

'Clint,' Tony schooled his features to appear serious, 'If not Captain America, who is your favourite superhero?'

Clint looked at him as though tired with whatever game it was they were playing, 'I don't like any superheroes. I think they're stupid.'

At that statement they all turned their heads to stare at him.

'But…but…'Tony spluttered, 'But there must be at least one you like! All kids like superheroes! Um…Batman, even? I mean, no one really likes Batman, but I don't know, you might? Superheroes are so cool!'

Clint shrugged, 'Barney likes superheroes, he believes that they're real.'

'And you don't?' Steve asked, observing Clint with an amused look on his face.

Clint met his eyes with a steeliness that he did not anticipate. They were not the eyes of a child, open and pliant, but challenging with the embers of a fire burning in them.

'Of course not.' He scoffed, 'Believing in superheroes is like…waiting for a day that's never going to come.' He finished softly, looking away from their slack-jawed faces.

'How old are you, kid?' Tony gaped at him.

'Clint. My name is Clint, asshole. And I'm 7.' He snapped back at him. 'How old are you?'

'Clint!' Pepper scolded sharply, shocked by this side of the boy. And just like that the little firecracker was gone, retreating into the child's body to be replaced by a wounded animal, tense and afraid, waiting for…for what exactly? Pepper didn't want to admit the truth of the matter to herself; Clint was waiting for her to hit him.

'Sorry.' He whispered quickly. 'Sorry. Sorry.'

'No, kid, don't sweat it. I mean, I know I look a lot younger than my twenty-five years so I could forgive you for being confused!' Tony grinned at him from across the counter, 'Especially compared to Steve and Bruce here, they're really old.' He whispered really loudly, nodding at each of them in turn and was rewarded with a small smile from Clint, although his body remained as taut as a well strung bow.

'First lesson of living here, Clint,' Bruce advised him as he placed several large stacks of pancakes on the table, 'is never, ever, listen to Tony.'

This statement was met with many affirmatives from around the table and Clint allowed a little of the tension to ebb away from his shoulders, though Natasha noticed that he kept a wary eye on all of them.

Breakfast continued without mishap, although Clint looked a little put out by Pepper leaning over and cutting his pancakes into small pieces for him. Never mind that she had let him struggle for more than 10 minutes with his cast out of consideration for his pride, knowing Clint he would have persevered to the very end and she wanted to put him out of his misery. They all chatted around him; seemingly he was content to simply observe them as he munched on what had to be the best pancakes he had ever tasted. If all the food around here was like that, he thought, maybe he wouldn't completely hate being here, and then hated himself for it. No matter how good the food was, he should always want to be back home with Mama and Barney.

He broke out his daydream by catching the end of Pepper's conversation to the rest of the adults, '…needs clothes and things so we'll go shopping now.'

This statement was met with much dissent from the men sitting around the table.

'What! You can't do that to him! He's just a kid!'

'He has a _concussion_ Pepper, it'll kill him!'

'It's cruel and unusual, that's against the law! Bill of Rights, Pepper, Bill of Rights!'

Pepper bristled indignantly at this affront to her authority, 'Well, it's either we go shopping for more clothes or he wears that Captain America shirt forever. Clint, do you want to wear the Captain America shirt forever?'

'No, ma'am,' Clint shook his head quickly as he was expected to, and then winced at the small pain in his head caused by the action. He had forgotten that at some point he had sustained a head injury and was still confused as to how that had happened. He wanted to know, but feared what would happen if he asked too many questions about it.

'See. There. Settled. Natasha and I will take him shopping now. We won't be out too long, we won't take him to too many shops and we'll make sure he has lots of fun.' She said it brightly and with enthusiasm, but her no-nonsense tone left no doubt in Clint's mind that it would be anything but fun.

Apparently Tony felt the same way. 'Hang on,' he interjected, 'I cannot sit idly by and let you do this. Therefore, ' he said with the air of a man about to sacrifice himself for another, 'I too will come on this most terrible trip and ensure that you two don't turn this poor boy into your own personal dress up doll.'

Natasha and Pepper shared a look of disappointment which made it all the more obvious that that was exactly their intention. A look of utter relief crossed Clint's face, although he scowled fiercely when Tony caught sight of it and laughed. He wasn't sure about these people yet. He wanted to like them, he really did, and they seemed nice but…Clint knew full well that looks could be deceiving. His scowl only made Tony laugh a little louder and he ruffled Clint's blonde hair as he went to find a jacket.

Steve and Bruce begged absence from the shopping trip, Steve muttering about 'making plans' and Bruce mumbling about 'equations and things'. In truth, both wanted to escape as soon as possible before Tony returned and forced them to join in. Bruce, for one, had the feeling that going on a shopping trip with Pepper, Natasha and Tony would be enough to provoke the Hulk's ire.

He looked at little Clint once more before he disappeared to while away the hours trying to find a way to bring back regular Clint. He marvelled at how amazingly whole this child was; he was not a shrunken down adult, nor Clint trapped in a childlike body. It really was Clint as he was aged seven, sitting there in the flesh, all his memories, his hopes, his fears, his hates, his passions, his whole being intact.

It was both incredible and unnatural, like a bad joke played out before them and falling flat. He wasn't sure how they were all managing to act so normally around Clint, as though it was just another day where your friend and one of the greatest marksmen the world has ever seen just happens to revert to his seven year old self. Then again, Bruce mused ruefully, the world that the Avengers existed in could hardly be described as normal.

Shaking his head, he retreated to the comfort of his lab, offering what he hoped was a sympathetic smile to Clint as he left. God help the child, he thought, God help us all.


End file.
